Mortal Gods (Mantles of Power Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “At ease,” the goddess said to Maura, who relaxed only slightly. Then the goddess turned her cool gaze on Kitania and arched an eyebrow curiously. “This must be our uninvited guest. Interesting… and your reaction makes this even more intriguing. Everything I’ve heard about you has indicated that you’re relatively carefree and never afraid. Why are you afraid now? Do you recognize me?”

  “You’re Queen Alserah, the Divine Archer and Queen of the Forest of Sighs,” Kitania replied instantly, tearing her gaze away from the beautiful, terrifying elf to look at the floor, swallowing as she felt her heart pounding. “I had no idea where I was, or I wouldn’t be so carefree, Your Grace. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you, though I suppose it’s far preferable to the circumstances from last time.”

  “Indeed? You’re rather better informed than I believed… at least somewhat,” Alserah murmured, reaching out to tap a bar experimentally, causing the metal to chime softly. “Where have you seen me before?”

  “Rosken,” Kitania replied simply, keeping her gaze fixed on the goddess’s feet. She remembered seeing her in full battle dress, a glittering bow in hand, as she rained arrows on the defending demon lords and their allies.

  Maura choked softly at Kitania’s statement, and even the goddess paused for a long moment. Then Alserah asked, her voice even softer, “Indeed? You were on the outskirts, then?”

  “Oh, how I wish I’d been on the outskirts,” Kitania replied, giggling almost maniacally, her body taut as a bowstring by this point, with both terror and the knowledge of where she was. The Forest of Sighs was on Dolia, the second continent from the north, and two full continents away from Zintas and Hragon. She was well behind enemy lines. After a moment, she continued. “No, my unit was assigned to hold the central walls. I was right below the seven of you when the end came. It took a month and a half before I regenerated on the edge of the crater.”

  “Ah. That… would be an unpleasant experience. Rosken was painful for everyone involved, and for the bystanders… well. It does explain your trepidation,” Alserah murmured, still watching Kitania with calm interest. “From where do you hail? You seem a touch too shocked to have come from the nearest demonic realm. I have some suspicions but would rather hear it from you.”

  “I was in Estalia,” Kitania said, pausing for just a moment, then continuing, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see the goddess at all. “Near the base of Hellmount… I suppose, just in case you don’t know, Estalia is below a portal in Hragon, on Zintas. I’m far, far from where I thought I might be.”

  When she opened her eyes a crack, Kitania saw that Maura’s expression of shock had grown even more pronounced at Kitania’s explanation, and Kitania could understand why. Traveling more than halfway across the mortal world in a single teleportation was incredibly difficult, and rarely done. It did explain how unpleasant the teleportation had been, too.

  “Estalia? That’s certainly a surprise. Perhaps not quite as much of a surprise as it might have been, considering your appearance. However, I don’t believe I’ve ever had someone from there end up here. Not outside of the exceedingly rare prisoner exchange,” Alserah said, crossing her arms as she looked at Kitania speculatively, and Kitania felt a lot like a mouse being watched by a hawk. “I don’t suppose you’re worth ransoming? I doubt that there are any prisoners in Queen Estalia’s domain that I could trade you for, unfortunately.”

  “I have no idea what my mother would do. Probably be very annoyed with the angels who shot me… assuming they survived,” Kitania replied, hesitating for a moment before she admitted, “I’m Queen Estalia’s daughter. She might want me back, but I’d been in hiding since the war, so… I have no idea.”

  “From the choking sound the guard is making, I take it that you haven’t told anyone about your heritage before this. Otherwise, the gossip would have spread through the palace like wildfire,” Alserah said, not even looking at Maura, who did her best to regain her composure at the goddess’s statement.

  “I was in hiding for a millennium, until she found me… last week? Close to that,” Kitania replied, feeling completely miserable by this point. “So no, I didn’t tell anyone. Considering my situation, and that it’s you, I thought that sharing might improve my odds of getting home. Maybe.”

  “I see, most interesting,” Alserah murmured, her eyes slightly narrowed now, and she reached up to tap her lips, a smile playing across them as she continued after a moment. “You know that your odds of reaching Estalia are poor if I were to release you, yes?”

  “From here? I probably wouldn’t reach the coast. I don’t know what kingdoms are between here and there, I’ve been out of touch for too long, but I remember human kingdoms would happily torture stray demons for information,” Kitania said, shivering as she added, “Regeneration isn’t a gift, not in my opinion.”

  “You aren’t wrong about the reaction of some locals. Why, one of my researchers requested that they be allowed to test some of their weapons on you,” Alserah agreed, shaking her head in disapproval. “I didn’t approve, of course. I don’t approve of torture, and there isn’t another appropriate term for that.”

  “Thank you,” Kitania said, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing. No matter what she’d been expecting, Alserah wasn’t it. She wasn’t anything like the wrathful goddess who Kitania remembered killing a demon lord. She was too calm, for one thing.

  “You shouldn’t thank me. I don’t trust you,” Alserah replied bluntly, causing some of Kitania’s tension to return suddenly. The goddess paused for a moment, then continued in the same tone of voice. “On the other hand, I also don’t consider you a threat. You submitted to truth magic, and I have the measure of your power. You aren’t capable of harming me, outside of exceptional circumstances. The question comes down to, what do I do with you?”

  “I have no intention of hurting you, or anyone else here. Except maybe in self-defense,” Kitania replied, licking her lips nervously. “I’m tired of the war. It’s part of why I learned to be a healer afterward, so I could help some people, even if it was only in small ways.”

  “Indeed? Well, then. Tell me, are you willing to wear a restraint collar, should I release you from this cell?” Alserah asked, finally unfolding her arms and reaching out to tap one of the cell bars again, causing another soft chime. “You would not be allowed to leave the palace, and many places would be off-limits to you. The question is, what are you willing to do for your freedom, however limited?”

  Kitania winced unhappily at the thought. Restraint collars weren’t pleasant, though it wouldn’t be her first time wearing one. They were more effective when used on someone who willingly put them on, but they used the wearer’s own magic to restrict their actions. The problem was that the restrictions often varied based on who made them, which could make them even more unpleasant. The one Kitania had worn when she was young hadn’t had many restrictions, it was mostly to keep her from straying out of the palace after one escape attempt too many. Still, if it would allow her out of the cell, it was probably worth the discomfort.

  “I would,” Kitania agreed after a minute, looking down to study her feet, her tail flicking nervously behind her. “I don’t like restraint collars, but it would be better than sitting in a cell.”

  “Very well. I will make arrangements, and in a few hours I’ll see about your release,” the goddess replied, and she smiled thinly as she added, “I’ll also see about having an emissary sent to Estalia. It likely will take some time to reach her.”

  “As you say, Lady Goddess,” Kitania replied, letting her gaze drift upward to Alserah’s face for a moment, then back to the ground. Kitania just hoped that she wasn’t making a mistake.

  The goddess didn’t say anything more, and instead turned away, walking down the hallway with the same distinctive clicking of her heels. Only once the sound of her footsteps had faded did Kitania relax slightly, and Maura let out a breath of relief.

  “How can you talk to her that easil
y?” Maura demanded, turning to Kitania incredulously. “She’s a goddess!”

  “Yes, she is. So is my mother, effectively, and her presence is far more overwhelming,” Kitania replied, slowly easing over to the cot and sitting down, slightly pleased that her legs weren’t shaking. “If it weren’t for how dangerous I know your goddess is, I wouldn’t have been even as nervous as I was. She’s far from the first deity I’ve met, or demon lord for that matter.”

  “Oh really?” Maura asked, her voice almost scathingly skeptical. “How many of them have you met? Have you met an archangel, too?”

  “An archangel? Not unless you count the two over Rosken,” Kitania replied, laughing bitterly as she shook her head and sat back against the cool stone wall. “No, excluding this meeting, I’ve met five mortal gods… though admittedly, all of those meetings were in passing. I’ve also met fourteen demon lords, three of whom bore the same mantle, but only four of them were demon lords I actually got to know. I’m not stunned by the power they radiate, not anymore. Especially not compared to my mother.”

  “Really? Then what’s she like?” Maura asked, some of her disbelief fading as she studied Kitania. “I mean, if you’ve met multiple gods…”

  “Most gods are incredibly powerful, physically or magically. My mother’s power is different, because she’s… she’s like the sun dawning. She draws the eye of everyone, and her power is like a whirlpool that you can’t resist,” Kitania murmured, smiling sadly as she looked at Maura. “She could enrapture you, toy with you, and break your heart in a night, and you’d thank her for it. It’s just who she is, and I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count. Compared to her, as powerful as Lady Alserah might be, her presence just… isn’t the same. It can’t be.”

  “That… is kind of terrifying,” Maura said, frowning deeply. “And that’s your mother?”

  “Terrifying? I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Kitania replied, smiling in amusement as she looked back at Maura. “Regardless… yes, that’s my mother. Estalia is also benevolent compared to my grandmother.”

  Maura stared for a long moment, then murmured, “I don’t understand demons.”

  Kitania laughed, grinning as she nodded in agreement. “Me neither.”

  Then she sat back to wait. Even if she was going to have to wear a restraint collar, she was looking forward to getting out of the cell.

  “This is your room, at least for now,” the maid said, opening the door of the room. Kitania noted the lack of a lock and that the door opened inward with interest, since she’d half expected the room she was assigned to be more like a prison cell. No one would want a prisoner to have access to the hinges of their cell, so it surprised her.

  They’d passed through pristine, beautiful hallways to reach the room, several of which opened to lush gardens surrounded by the palace, and the sheer amount of greenery felt alien to Kitania after a millennium in the hells. Eventually they’d passed through a door into smaller, less elaborate halls, and the numerous servants had made it obvious to Kitania that she was in the wing intended for servants and soldiers. Not that she minded, considering her clothing.

  Taking a step into the room, Kitania made certain to pull her tail fully through the door. She’d almost gotten it caught in a door once already, and she mentally cursed having lost her changed shape yet again. One of the changes had been shortening her tail, since it was far too prone to getting caught in doorways if she wasn’t careful.

  “I see. It’s more elaborate than I was expecting, to be honest.” Kitania replied, turning in place to look things over, and ignoring the guards looking into the room after her as she examined the room, pleasantly surprised by the sight. “I also expected a lock, but I suppose this makes that unnecessary.”

  She tapped the gold collar around her neck absently, thankful that the metal had warmed to her body temperature already. It was mostly plain, with a small emerald in a copper setting on the front and was far prettier than most restraint collars Kitania had seen.

  The room wasn’t large, but it was at least as big as her room in the hells. There was a small bed, large enough for a much taller person than Kitania, a modest wardrobe, a cloak rack, and a vanity, though the last didn’t have a mirror. The floor was wood, with a single plain carpet by the bed, and a narrow window looked out onto the palace stables and a field inside the walls. The room looked like it’d been hastily cleaned not too long ago, including changing the bedding. That didn’t change the fact she could see a fair amount of dust and dirt around the room. Admittedly, it was about as clean as her cell had been, but it irritated her for some reason.

  “I believe so. You will be responsible for cleaning up after yourself, and you can use the servant baths down the hall, as well as the privies,” the maid replied, a severe-looking brunette who looked quite unhappy with Kitania’s presence. “Meals will be delivered to your room, unless you are requested to attend one elsewhere. Do you have any questions?”

  “Of course I do. First, will I have any other changes of clothing? I’m afraid I’ve been wearing this for a few days, and it’s in need of laundering,” Kitania said, looking down at her clothing as she did so, her nose wrinkling slightly as she continued briskly. “Second, where can I take care of laundering it, and where are the cleaning supplies?”

  “I beg your pardon?” the maid asked, looking slightly taken aback by the barrage of questions.

  “I want to clean the room properly so that I’m comfortable with it, and I’d like to change into something that doesn’t stink like I doubtlessly do,” Kitania replied, looking at the woman calmly. “A bath is also in order, but it can wait until I’ve cleaned up the room.”

  Kitania saw the two guards exchange perplexed looks but suppressed her urge to smile at their reactions. She didn’t want to get off on completely the wrong foot, even if she’d obviously confused the maid. Likely a head maid, come to think of it. Kitania hoped that she hadn’t displaced one of the higher-ranking servants, as that could make her time here far more unpleasant than she’d like.

  “I see. More clothing will be provided, I’ve been informed, and should arrive shortly,” the maid said at last, regaining her poise. “As for cleaning supplies, if you would follow me? I’ll also show you the laundry room.”

  “Thank you,” Kitania replied and proceeded to follow the maid as she left the room, and the two guards followed her.

  Kitania really hoped that Alserah wasn’t planning to have two guards assigned to her constantly. She’d already been warned that the collar wouldn’t let her attack anyone on the palace grounds, so all they’d be doing was keeping an eye on her and making those who might attack Kitania hesitate.

  Before too long, Kitania had been shown to a room filled with cleaning supplies, which was conveniently near the large laundry room. It was quite a bit different than any laundry room Kitania was familiar with, but at least the water from their boiler didn’t smell like sulfur. Kitania thanked the maid, then gathered the supplies she needed and went back to the room, a large bucket of steaming water in one hand and a basket of brushes, a sponge, and soap in the other, while she held a broom close with her tail. The last got a lot of strange looks and double takes, she noticed.

  Setting things down, Kitania looked around the room and smiled, gently closing the door, then picked up a rag to dust first, murmuring, “If I’m going to live here, I want it to be clean.”

  So she got to work. It was going to take a while, she expected, but when she was done, she wanted the floor to shine. It was good to be able to do something productive at last.

  “What has my newest guest been up to since being released from prison?” Alserah asked, looking out the window at the palace grounds. A small part of her was tempted to go hunting the next day, just to get out of the palace.

  Hanrith shifted, then spoke, his voice a little annoyed. “I feel I need to reiterate my opposition to this Kitania being released from her cell, Your Grace. Even with the restraint collar, I’m not c
omfortable with a demon being given the freedom to move about the palace.”

  “Your opposition is noted. Not ignored, but… I feel that I can trust her to remain true to her word,” Alserah replied, turning to look at Hanrith steadily. “She survived Rosken, and no others in her position could have. I saw the fear in her eyes, and sincerity. Beyond that, if she truly is Estalia’s daughter… she’s a demon lord who I believe can be negotiated with in good faith.”

  “If you say so, Your Grace,” Hanrith agreed, bowing his head deeply in acquiescence, even if he didn’t look happy about the answer he’d been given. “As for Kitania, according to my reports, she’s been cleaning.”

  “Cleaning?” Alserah asked, a hint of surprise rippling through her. Of all the answers she’d expected, that certainly wasn’t one of them. So after a moment, she asked, “What do you mean, she’s cleaning?”

  “From what I was told, she didn’t like how her room had been cleaned, so she’s spent the last four hours cleaning it again. One of the guards says that she’s never seen the floor in the servant wing shine like that,” Hanrith said, looking incredibly puzzled, and possibly unnerved.

  “I… see,” Alserah said, and for just a moment she felt her brow furrow, and she felt a stab of pain sear through her. Then she shook off the pain, calming her mind as she sighed, smiling thinly. “She certainly does know how to surprise me. Cleaning, of all the things. Continue keeping watch over her, Captain.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” Hanrith said, then turned to leave the room.

  Once he was gone, Alserah reached up to rub her temple, wincing slightly as she reminded herself, “I don’t trust demons. Their injuries can last too long.”

  Chapter 6

  The maid paused, gaping as she looked around the bedroom, obviously almost forgetting that she had the tray of food in her hands, and Kitania resisted the urge to sigh. She hadn’t realized that cleaning the room would get this kind of reaction, but even if she had, it wouldn’t have dissuaded her.